


You Were Born Broken (Don't Know How To Love)

by mira_blue



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Bad Parenting, Character Study, Dehumanization, Fluff, Growing Up, Heavy Angst, Humor, Long Shot, One Shot, Sad Ending, Self-Doubt, Self-Sacrifice, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:07:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29804745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mira_blue/pseuds/mira_blue
Summary: five times hollow let themself feel (and one time they didn't)
Relationships: The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel & The Pale King, The Pale King/White Lady (Hollow Knight)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 47





	You Were Born Broken (Don't Know How To Love)

**_I._ **

They sat, still and obedient, on a stool in the White Lady’s room.

The Pure Vessel had only recently clawed their way out of the Abyss. They were still minuscule compared to everything else in the White Palace. Special furniture had been brought in to accommodate them. Nothing too fancy, just simple stools like the one they were currently sitting on. The White Lady’s room was filled with things much larger than them, with beautiful roots growing in every corner, a bubbling fountain, and giant, reflective surfaces that made the bright, glowing light of the White Palace harsher than ever.

That did not bother the Pure Vessel. Nothing _could_ bother the Pure Vessel. Nothing would.

The King had been a constant presence looming over them from the moment they had escaped the Abyss. He oversaw everything they did, which were only things they were _told_ to do.

But today, he had to attend meetings in which the Pure Vessel’s presence was not warranted. It could be seen that he did not want to be parted from the Pure Vessel – not for any affection on his part, but rather for fear that the Vessel might show signs of imperfection when out of his sight.

Regardless, that had to happen. So, the Pale King had begun to order one of his many Kingsmoulds to remain with the Vessel – until the White Lady herself had volunteered to watch over them.

The King had been reluctant. He was unsure whether this was a good idea, unsure about the implications of the White Lady _watching over_ the Pure Vessel as if they were a child.

 _This is no child of ours_ , he had said, once they’d both returned to the Palace from the Abyss and the Pure Vessel had been presented to the Lady. _This is merely a Vessel. A part of a machine. A means to an end._

The White Lady had said nothing, but she turned her face away.

That was how it had been for the last handful of weeks. The Lady never spoke a word to them, only watching from afar and then looking away, as if she had been staring at a burning light for too long.

Until this very day, where she insisted on having the Pure Vessel until the King returned from his meetings. Of course, despite his misgivings, the King gave in to his Queen’s wishes, and ordered the Pure Vessel to remain with her.

And so, they had.

She’d told them to follow her, walking towards her own private chambers. Once they’d entered the room, she’d gestured towards the small stool and said, “Why don’t you sit down, Vessel?”

The Pure Vessel sat down. The White Lady walked away from them, towards a dresser with a giant mirror. There, she had begun rifling through the many drawers.

Not a word was spoken. The Pure Vessel had no voice to cry suffering, no thoughts to share, no mind to think.

And the White Lady...

With a sigh, she closed the drawers and made her way back towards them. She seemed to be carrying something in her many roots.

Stopping in front of the Pure Vessel, she began to speak.

“I know...I know this is foolish of me. Wyrm insists that you are...unfeeling. Without a mind or heart or soul. And for it to be otherwise would mean the unfurling of his plans. Would mean all he did...was for nothing.”

She paused.

“What he did to you would be for nothing.”

The Pure Vessel did not react.

Another sigh. “I cannot pretend I did not have a hand in doing this, that I did not allow it. And...I would not change it. This is our last hope. _You_ are our last hope. But to put so much hope in something that _cannot_ hope...”

She bent a little closer. “I have always wanted a child. Seeing you, I cannot help but wonder how it would’ve been to have a child untainted by Void. If _you_ were untainted by Void. Would you look the same? You would not _act_ the same. You are so...hollow. So silent, and too obedient. No child is this obedient. And Wyrm insists you are not our – _my_ child.”

Her voice breaks, and something inside the Pure Vessel breaks too. A little. Almost undetectable.

The White Lady raises one of her roots. In it, dangling from a simple metallic chain, is a leaf – except that it is a purely white leaf, and seems strangely solid.

“It is common among my people, that when a child is born, a Pale Leaf should be gifted to them. It carries no power, no magic. It is simply...a gift. Wyrm says that you are not my child. And perhaps he is right. Perhaps my child died in the Abyss, and you took its place. But...”

She brings her root over the Pure Vessel’s head and slips the chain around their neck, tucking the Leaf neatly into their cloak.

“You might as well be my child, still. Even though you are empty, I cannot think of you as anything else.”

The Pure Vessel does not react, but something inside them stirs as they feel the Pale Leaf pressing against their thorax.

No magic. No powers. Nothing but a gift, from a mother to her child.

**_II._ **

They stood on the edge of a balcony. The Pale King sat beside them.

They had just finished having several sparring sessions. Not many understood why the King insisted on having his Vessel practice the many forms of nail-fighting. When one of the Five Great Knights – Hegemol – had asked him why, the King had simply said that no creation of his – especially one as essential as the Pure Vessel – would be defenceless in any form or way.

The Pure Vessel had been standing next to the King as he explained this. He had reached out, almost as if he meant to touch the Vessel’s shoulder, but pulled back quickly. Like touching the Vessel would burn.

Often, the Pure Vessel trained with whatever Great Knight was available. If none were, they trained with a Kingsmould. Those were always available.

Ogrim would always go too easy on them. Ze’mer always seemed like she would rather be doing something else. Hegemol was infinitely patient. Isma always insisted on attending to whatever wounds they had sustained afterwards. Dryya gave them a challenge and had no problem pushing them past their limits, but would always help them off the floor in the end.

These were only things the Vessel had noticed, of course. They did not have a preference. They did not feel frustrated when Dryya swiped at their legs. They did not feel gratitude when Isma patched up their injuries, or when Hegemol explained something over and over. They did not find Ogrim’s jokes amusing.

They did not feel. Did not think. Did not...

On this day, halfway through their sparring session with Isma, the King had walked in. Sometimes he would watch them train, so this was no strange occurrence. This time, though, the King had declared that he wanted to test the Pure Vessel’s strength himself.

Isma had bowed and stepped back. The Vessel faced the King, who stepped towards them and said, “Vessel, you are going to train against me. Ready your weapon.”

And so they had.

They were, of course, no match for the King. Still, they managed to do well and hold their ground. But when they saw an opening, despite knowing they should take it, they had hesitated.

This was... ~~their~~ the King. Weren’t they meant to _protect_ him, instead of _attack_ him?

The confusion cost them, and the King’s soul-conjured nails had slammed against their thorax, making them fall to the ground.

The fight ended. The Pale King stood over them, and for the first (but not the last, far from it) time, the Vessel felt fear.

Fear that the King had sensed their confusion. That they would be sent back into the Abyss. That they were _not_ Pure.

But the King had only reached a claw down to help pull them back up on their feet. He looked at them, his gaze piercing but not finding, and declared that their training for today was concluded. Then he’d told them to follow.

They followed, as obedient and still as ever. But internally, they were reeling. Why had they hesitated? Why had they _thought_? What did it mean? Could anyone know? Did the King know? He could not know; he could never know.

Their thoughts _(thoughts! How could this be? They had no thoughts. No mind. No will.)_ continued to clash as they followed the King up several stairs. They kept proceeding higher and higher, until they reached an open area with a balcony at the edge.

The King walked there, the Vessel behind him. Once he reached the edge, he sat down and gestured to the space beside him.

“You may rest here. It is an impressive vantage point, a place of solace. Although you do not need solace. No, not you.”

The Vessel stepped forward until they were near the edge. The view truly was an impressive one, overlooking the Palace’s training grounds. The weather was colder up here too, and a gentle wind was blowing.

They took this chance to ground themselves. These were not thoughts born from a mind and a will. These were...thoughts, yes, perhaps they were, but they must have been born from their purpose. From their training.

Yes. That was it.

At the edge of their vision, they saw the King turn to look at them. Unthinkingly, they did the same, and met his gaze.

This time, they felt no fear. Only determination to uphold their purpose, to be the Pure Vessel, and to force down all the leaking thoughts and feelings.

For Hallownest. For their King.

**_III._ **

The Vessel had grown.

They had been around now long enough to have been trained to their prime form, to witness the plans for the salvation of Hallownest come together. They’d been given the title _Hollow Knight_ by the White Lady.

And they’d discovered that their thoughts and feelings were a challenge to banish.

Nonetheless, they maintained their duty and stood by their King’s side as he’d reached out to each Dreamer and explained what he wanted from them.

Lurien hadn’t needed much convincing. He had been by the King’s side for ages now, a trusted advisor and friend. The Watcher had only needed one meeting to accept.

Monomon too had accepted, albeit on her own terms. She’d requested every last detail to be explained, and had even done her own research. Only when she had seen no other choice, did she accept her role.

Herrah, though...

Herrah had been another story. She had no love for Hallownest or its rulers. She came from an entirely different place, a place that had unresolved tensions with Hallownest. Still, there was no one else fitting enough to be the third Dreamer, so the King had persisted, holding meeting after meeting, offering and flattering and explaining.

His efforts went nowhere.

Until one meeting in which the Beast, seeming strangely subdued, announced that she would become a Dreamer, but there was a certain requirement she had that could not be negotiated with.

The Pale King, relieved to _finally_ have a chance, had asked her what it was.

So she’d told him.

It had been...an awkward scene. The Hollow Knight remembered the way the King had tensed, wings flaring. They themselves had been surprised, although they did not show it or act on it.

They had been doing that for a long time now.

But Herrah had been adamant. That was her price. Take it or leave it.

The Pale King took it, but not before _another_ dozen meetings where arrangements were set, permissions were given, and futures were discussed.

Eventually, the meetings ended, and the request was granted.

The Vessel did not know what to expect. The King had remained in Deepnest for a week and then returned, disgruntled. A few more weeks passed with no news.

Then a messenger arrived from Deepnest.

It had been done. The child of Herrah the Beast and the Pale King had hatched. They were alive and well.

Immediately, the King had embarked back to Deepnest, though for what purpose, the Hollow Knight did not know. When he came back a while later, the King held a meeting with the Great Knights, the White Lady, a few prominent servants, and of course, the Hollow Knight, and said that once Herrah’s child grows old enough, they will be coming to spend certain scheduled days in the White Palace, and that everyone should be prepared for it.

Everyone had agreed, promising that they would do so.

The Hollow Knight was unsure about how _they_ should prepare for the arrival of ~~their sibling~~ the child. Were they to...interact with it at all?

They got their answer almost two months later, on the child’s first visit to the White Palace.

The Pale King and the White Lady had been the ones to greet Herrah and welcome the child, who by now was old enough to walk and utter a few disjointed words. Herrah informed the royal couple that her child was a girl, and had been named Hornet, by the Hive Queen Vespa herself.

It had apparently taken a lot of convincing for Hornet to be willing to leave her mother, but the White Lady managed to do it, inviting Herrah in to have a few warm drinks with her, while telling Hornet that she could explore the Palace all by herself, like an adventurer.

Hornet’s eyes had lit up, and she’d swung up a wooden needle, delightfully crying, “Adventure!”

Thus, she’d allowed herself to be led away by the Pale King, who took her to the throne room.

The Hollow Knight had been stationed there, as they usually were. The King had not wanted them to be the first thing the child saw, in case they frightened her.

She stared at them. They allowed themselves to look at her.

Gods. She was so small.

The Vessel felt _(but they were not_ supposed _to feel)_ a sudden urge to scoop her up and keep her safe in the folds of their cloak.

They, obviously, did not do so.

Hornet was the one who reacted first, stumbling bravely in their direction, and then smacking their leg with her wooden nail.

“Hornet!” the Pale King reached forward, but he did not risk pulling her back. “Do not attack the Hollow Knight.”

In response, she said, “Attack!” and knocked her nail against their shins again.

For the first time, and to their horror, the Hollow Knight had to fight the urge to express any amusement. They could not laugh out loud because they lacked a voice, but they could _still_ shake with laughter.

However, doing so would doom them, so they held themself in check.

Hornet had no qualms about continuing her ‘attack’, despite the Pale King protesting. Finally, he laid a hand on her shoulder and asked her if she wanted to go see other parts of the Palace.

She shook her head and latched onto the Hollow Knight’s legs. “Stay with Holly Knight!”

The Pale King sighed. “You cannot stay with the Pure Vessel. They aren’t...you’re a child and they’re a Vessel.”

Hornet did not reply, only latched on tighter.

The Pale King rubbed his temples. The Hollow Knight knew that he had to go to a meeting with Monomon the Teacher soon, to improve the integrity of the Seals. He could not bring Hornet to such a meeting. But he could not leave her unattended either. Perhaps he would’ve asked a servant to remain with her, but she had hissed at several of them on the way in, and besides, she did not seem like she wanted to remain with anyone other than his Vessel.

So, the King relented. “Alright, Hornet. You can stay with the Hollow Knight.”

She let out a small screech of happiness.

The King turned to the Hollow Knight. “Vessel. This child is to remain with you. You will keep a close watch over her, and make sure she comes to no harm. Keep her occupied and safe. Just...just for a little while, and then I will return for her.”

The Hollow Knight did not do anything, but a sliver of doubt crept into them. _They_ were being left in charge of something so...tiny?

The King looked at both of them for a moment longer, before turning and walking away.

The instant he left the room, Hornet let go of the Hollow Knight’s leg. She stretched, chirping as she did so, then began to wander around the room.

The Hollow Knight, not too sure what else to do, followed.

They watched as she hit _everything_ with her toy needle. The floor got a good smack. The strength of the walls was tested. Even the thrones themselves did not stand a chance as she repeatedly slammed them.

They figured that this was causing no harm, so the Hollow Knight let her be.

Hornet kept at it for a few more minutes, then grew bored. She stopped, looked around the room, and – before the Hollow Knight could react – dashed out of the room.

They had no choice but to give chase.

Fortunately, she did not keep running for too long, getting distracted by a mural in the hall. The mural depicted the Pale King and White Lady, and gave off a faint glow.

The Hollow Knight slowed to a stop next to her. They hoped no one had seen them run after the child. They might’ve looked...a little too frantic for comfort.

Watching her, they wondered if she was trying to decide whether she should stab the mural itself with her needle. Thinking that it would be better that the child _not_ destroy Palace property while under their watch, they gave her a gentle push forward.

She made a sound of surprise, but then looked up at the Hollow Knight. She threw her hands up and exclaimed, “Holly Knight! Big!”

The Hollow Knight couldn’t help their huff of amusement. They couldn’t help reaching out and giving Hornet a small pat on the head.

She accepted them happily, pushing her head into their palm. After a few pats, she decided that that was enough, grabbing the Hollow Knight’s hand and declaring, “Adventure!”

Then she continued down the hall, dragging the Pure Vessel, saviour of Hallownest, sole survivor of the Abyss, after her.

Technically, they were not breaking any rules or expressing any emotions by allowing this. They were, after all, created to follow orders. Hornet just had a special way of telling them what to do.

She also had a special way of causing disorder.

For some reason, she hissed at every servant. And when she found one carrying a platter of food, she’d jumped, snatched a delicacy, and scampered off before anyone could do anything.

Afterwards, they came across fountain. She actually took a moment to admire it, before jumping in and splashing the water with her needle.

The Hollow Knight had made the mistake of standing too close to her, and ended up thoroughly soaked.

Once she was satisfied, Hornet jumped out and continued her quest.

The duo passed many hallways and rooms. Hornet seemed content, for now, to simply rush ahead and discover this new environment.

Until she saw Monomon’s assistant walking towards them.

He _(his name was Quirrel)_ did not see them, for he was too engrossed in the pile of papers he carried in his arms.

Hornet stopped, shushing the ever-silent Hollow Knight. Slowly, impressively stealthy for someone her age, she crept up onto Monomon’s assistant.

Then slammed her needle against his leg and ran.

Quirrel was justifiably startled. He dropped some of his papers and let out a shout that seemed more surprised than hurt. Unfortunately for him, by the time he looked down to spot his attacker, she was already gone, running away and laughing victoriously.

The Hollow Knight wanted to stop and help Quirrel pick up the scattered papers; maybe apologize for ~~their sister’s~~ Hornet’s behaviour. However, they were hollow and only meant to follow orders, so they passed Quirrel and continued after Hornet.

Also, they were maybe a little frightened that if they looked at Quirrel’s bewildered face, they might have to fight down another fit of laughter.

The Hollow Knight found Hornet sitting on the edge of one of the White Palace’s many balconies. This one had bars for protection, and Hornet had slipped her legs between the bars, cheerfully waving them back and forth.

When she sensed the Hollow Knight behind her, she stood and turned, raising her arms. “Up,” she mumbled sleepily.

The Hollow Knight complied, carefully picking her up. Once she was at shoulder-length, she scurried up their arm, over their shoulder, and onto their head, where she nuzzled down, content.

The Hollow Knight sat down, slowly and carefully, trying their best not to bother the Beast’s child. A few heartbeats later, they felt her breath grow steady and calm, indicating that she was asleep.

The Hollow Knight felt something inside them swell. For so long, they had been deemed nothing but a Vessel, emotionless and empty. No one paid them much mind, and those that did usually kept them more than just an arm’s distance away.

But this little, fiery spider...she had given them joy. Her trust. Even a name.

Maybe it would be unwise to spend anymore time with her. Maybe it would make their defects worse.

No. They would control their shortcomings. They would remain pure, and they would stay by their sister’s side. Until the end. Until they had to go.

**_IV._ **

They stood on the outskirts of Greenpath.

The Pale King and White Lady had had to pay a visit to Unn, to discuss the future of Greenpath and find out how bad the Infection had gotten there. The Hollow Knight had been taken along, but the way into Greenpath’s heart was through many tunnels they could not fit in, so they’d been told to wait.

They stood, their nail pointed at the ground and their hands wrapped around the hilt. Secretly, they enjoyed moments like these, where there was no one around to scrutinize them, where they were all alone.

All alone, except for the suddenly approaching mosscreep.

A Pure Vessel would not attack unless provoked, and otherwise would pay it no attention, so Hollow did exactly that.

Until the mosscreep walked headfirst into their leg.

Their resolve crumbled, and they looked down at it.

It was looking back.

Its eyes did not carry the dim orange glow of an infected. It also seemed a bit smaller than the usual mosscreep.

It gave a small chirp.

The Hollow Knight ignored it, returning to staring straight ahead.

The mosscreep chirped again, then gave a small mewl, pawing at their leg.

They looked back down.

It looked back.

Not stopping to think better of it, Hollow scooped the young mosscreep into their palm, where it chirped happily.

 _Now_ what were they supposed to do?

Before they could come up with a plan, they heard the approaching voices of the Pale King and White Lady.

Panic seized them, and – not thinking entirely too clearly – they stuffed the mosscreep down their cloak.

It made a chirp of surprise, before realizing that this was a comfortable and safe spot, trilling contently then going quiet.

The royal couple came into view. They did not greet the Hollow Knight, the King only stopping their conversation to tell them to follow.

They _did_ follow, but made sure to keep their pace slow and distance far. The King and Lady were to take a stag wagon back to the Palace from a nearby station, and the Hollow Knight would follow them on foot.

The station was not far, but Hollow felt as if they would never reach it. The mosscreep had started to stir; it was probably uncomfortably cold, being this close to a being made of Void.

Finally, after what felt like painful eons, the trio made it to the station, where the wagon was already waiting. They’d chosen to come before the sun had risen in order to ensure that there would be no crowd.

The King waited until the Lady got in, then, before entering himself, he glanced back at the Hollow Knight.

They stood unmoving, ignoring the mosscreep’s scraping claws.

The Pale King disappeared inside the wagon, and the stags took off.

The Hollow Knight allowed themselves a sigh of relief. They began walking after the wagon, and only once it was far enough, did they feel safe to reach into their cloak and take out the mosscreep.

It blinked at them.

Shaking their head, they set it down gently and continued walking.

But the mosscreep would let them escape that easily, and so began to walk after them.

Hollow paused, and the mosscreep paused with them.

This was…an issue.

They tried thinking of a solution _(they weren’t_ supposed _to think, but how else were they going to deal with this?)_. They _could_ let the mosscreep follow them back to the Palace, but would that raise questions? Would the King wonder what motivated the mosscreep to follow them so far, and somehow find out that Hollow Knight was not as hollow as he thought?

The Hollow Knight couldn’t risk it. If this mosscreep were to return with them, it would be hidden.

They could abandon it.

Except that it was rubbing its head against their legs, and probably already knew their scent.

They could…kill it?

A single glance at the vulnerable creature in question banished that thought.

Resigning to their fate, they picked up the mosscreep again, putting it back into the folds of their cloak, this time making sure it was more comfortable. Once done with that, they resumed their journey back.

The mosscreep would join them in the Palace. _They_ could not keep it. But they knew someone who could.

Arriving at the White Palace, they were glad to note that the wagon was empty of passengers. This meant that the King and Queen had already gone in, and the Hollow Knight was expected to report back to the throne room, where they usually stayed when nothing was expected of them.

They would do that – after a small detour.

Entering through the gates, they were also grateful that it was the Kingsmoulds who stood guard through the Palace. They were adept at fighting and following orders, but did not care for or react to anything else. _They_ were truly hollow, so they would not question the Hollow Knight’s motives.

Ensuring that they took hallways empty of servants, the Hollow Knight made their way to Hornet’s room, and stepped inside.

It was empty – Hornet’s visit was not until tomorrow. The Hollow Knight knew that, and they also knew that her room had already been prepped by the servants. Meaning that no one would be entering it anytime soon.

They reached for the mosscreep, setting it on the floor. It looked around for a few moments, before building up the courage to sniff around its new home. After a few minutes, it found the bed, climbed up onto it, then curled up and fell asleep.

Satisfied, Hollow left and headed back towards the throne room. With luck, Hornet would want to keep the creature as a companion when she found it tomorrow. 

As it turned out, she did not need to be convinced.

The Hollow Knight had unfortunately missed the chaotic scene of Hornet finding the mosscreep. The servants had been befuddled, swearing that they’d cleaned every corner of the room before the princess’s arrival, and how did a mosscreep even _get_ there, anyways?

Even the King, with his foresight, did not know.

Hornet had not cared about the _how_ , just that _now_ was going to keep this mosscreep and take it back home to Deepnest.

No one, of course, was able to persuade her otherwise.

The Hollow Knight had only come to know that Hornet had found their gift when she’d rushed in the throne room, holding the mosscreep and yelling excitedly.

“Holly! Look!” She presented the mosscreep. “This is Green! My friend!”

They remained stoic, but gave both Hornet and Green a pat, gratified to know that their sister would not be entirely alone when the time for the Sealing came.

**_V._ **

The throne room was the fullest it had been in a long, long time.

Lurien, Monomon, and Herrah had finally perfected the Sealing spells. They had been spending the last few days clearing out any loose affairs they had left, for the day of the Sealing had been set, less than a week from now.

The Pale King had proclaimed that to the people, promising them that they would not have to fear the Infection anymore. Those that hadn’t been affected too severely had begun celebrating, perhaps a little too early.

A group of musicians had reached out to the King, appealing to hold a grand performance in the White Palace to honour those who were saving them. The King had been uncertain whether this was a good idea or not, but the White Lady had convinced him to allow it, saying that it would be a moment of joy they could all use.

So, the performance had been permitted. The guests were few and of importance; the Five Great Knights, the Pale King, the White Lady, Lurien and his butler, Monomon and her assistant, and Herrah and Hornet.

Hollow would attend too, though no one expected them to enjoy it.

The room had been set with extra chairs and tables, and a feast had been brought in. Although the conversations were sombre, a trickle of laughter could be heard every now and then.

Hornet, though, had spent the evening unsmiling and clutching her mother. Hollow knew that it was because she’d been told about the Sealing and what would happen to Herrah. They had been ordered to wait outside the throne room when she’d been told, by the Pale King and White Lady and Herrah. Yet they’d heard her screams through the walls nonetheless, and they were the one she ran to for comfort afterwards.

They wondered if she knew they were going to go, too.

As the evening turned to night, the Palace lights were dimmed until they only shone in the center of the room. The musicians entered, carrying their instruments, and took their place. A platform was set, and a beautiful butterfly took her place upon it.

The room grew quiet.

Smiling, the butterfly said, “I am Songstress Marissa, and it is an honour to be standing here before all of you. No performance could ever properly convey the gratitude Hallownest feels for the sacrifices you’ve made, but my friends and I hope to capture at least a fraction of it.”

With that, the band began to play.

Hollow felt a surprising joy at the sounds they made, but it was nothing compared to how they felt when the Songstress began to sing.

Her voice was ethereal, but the way she sang, the tragedy and passion in her voice, the words of thanks and hope, friends and home…

Something inside Hollow shattered.

They felt, for the first time, the weight of their life. The way they fought against themself _every_ day, forcing down every scrap of emotion, every thought and feeling, until the force of it threatened to break them and _still_.

Still, they continued. Still, they strived to be the best. Were they not the salvation of Hallownest? Were they not born of god and Void? No mind. No will. No voice.

But why did it hurt so much?

Hollow was not the only one affected in the room.

Herrah had held Hornet closer, silent tears falling behind her mask, and Monomon shared a sorrowful look with her assistant. Lurien held his butler’s hand under the table, as did Ogrim and Isma. Dryya’s head was bowed, and Hegemol had lain his hand on Ze’mer’s shoulder as she sobbed for a love lost. The White Lady had turned her face, the guilt crushing her.

The Pale King watched, eyes dry, but hands shaking beneath his robes.

Just as Hollow began to feel _too_ much, began to consider falling on their knees and revealing all their flaws, the song ended.

There was a stunned silence, broken by a shaky applause.

Hollow tried to settle the surge of feelings going through them. What had they been thinking? To confess? To fail Hallownest?

No. That was not allowed.

They were the Pure Vessel, the Hollow Knight, born of god and Void, chosen to seal the Infection away and _save_ Hallownest.

None would take their place. None could. It was far too late.

**_VI._ **

Their time had come.

They watched the Pale King and a few weavers working on the final steps. They had already been chained and raised; their nail placed in their grasp. The Dreamers had all been told to find their final resting spot. Hornet had been moved to the White Palace, kicking and screaming and finally, sobbing.

Hollow wished –

No. They could not. They must focus.

 ~~Their mother’s~~ The White Lady’s gift, given to them so long ago, rested against their thorax still. The King knew of it, and Hollow suspected the Lady had asked for him to keep it.

And now Hollow was wearing it in their final moments Unsealed, along with a dozen chains.

The King raised a hand, announcing to the weavers that they were done. They bowed – some begrudgingly – and left the room.

Hollow was left alone with ~~their father~~ the King.

They wondered –

 _No._ No mind. No will. No voice.

The King, for the first time in a while, looked up at them.

They did not care. Did not react. Did not notice.

He clasped his arms, hugging himself, a rare moment of vulnerability.

“I’m sorry.”

Sorry? He was _sorry_ –?!

 _It did not matter._ Nothing mattered. Nothing.

The Pale King, with nothing more to say, left the room. The doors sealed behind him. The chains glowed with spells of binding.

The Light exploded through Hollow.

They felt nothing. Nothing. _Nothing._

Pushing down every thought, shaking with the effort, Hollow took in the Infection, focusing with everything they had.

They had no mind.

They had no voice.

They had no will.

But they were Darkness, they were the Pure Vessel, and they would contain the Infection.

For Hallownest. For their father.

**Author's Note:**

> who wants to bet that herrah told hornet to cause as much chaos as she wanted in the white palace


End file.
